Whereas I am not the stripe of person to write blog postings about my cat, but a companion of 15+ years has just past. And
Whereas in her life she was alternatively good, malicious, sweet, -pendant (both in- and de-), and suspiciously hungry much of the time. And
Whereas a life has impressed upon us with its life, so that in death we notice the passing of said life in singular and unforeseeable ways. And
Whereas that life of which I speak was filled with more feline intelligence than I have ever encountered before. Lest you think I simply favored her, I might tell you stories of how she would demand attention by knocking over glasses of water if they happened to be next to the bed, or drag her claws lightly on the wall that is our headboard like nails on a chalkboard to announce her witching hour boredom, or I might speak of when I first received her into my life, and she would clawfully scale the tapestries on the wall and bounce with her cat body to spring free the push pins for batting around on the hard wood floors. I might tell you of her preternatural sense of when visitors would come and she would be hidden before their arrival, and if they were children she would wisely stay hidden until they departed. But mostly I would be the first to tell you if I had a cat who was cute and dumb, or ugly and mean, so you must believe that there is no bias when I say that the cat was smart. And
Whereas she was unique in her appearance, being powder soft, pure white, with yellow eyes, and in later years--a cancer survivor like her keeper--she lost her ears and adopted the look of a baby harp seal. We told her that her Christmas present that year was cosmetic surgery. And
Whereas she was the runt of the litter, but never a runt in any heart. And
Whereas she was christened for a man whom I have never met, but who seems to be a bit famous with bored teenagers reading phonebooks (as is how the name was first discovered when I myself was a bored teenager who read phonebooks). And
Whereas she was the last surviving cat of her litter, to my knowledge, outliving her brother by three years. And
Whereas she is likely to be the last cat we own,
LET IT BE KNOWN that Thunderbunny has died on this day. I declare such publicly to honor the life that accompanied mine for such a long time.
Long live Thunderbunny!
Thunderbunny has died.
The White Cat
The fire whispered to the old white cat:
"I shall grow fat.
Out in the night I'll jump, and there
Swallow up the air.
I shall take trees and mountain-tops for tinder
Till the whole world's a cinder."
Still dozing by the fireside sat
The old white cat.
Posted by: Martin McClellan
On the date of: October 5, 2005 12:13 PM